


those nights (when you crave someone)

by blackandwhiteandrose



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, David Rose is Thirsty, Early Relationship, Fantasizing, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV David Rose, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackandwhiteandrose/pseuds/blackandwhiteandrose
Summary: Who would have ever guessed that as a man in his “early” 30s, David would be fighting the urge to masturbate more than he had at any other time in his life.Now, in the middle of the most significant sexual drought he'd ever suffered through, the opportunity to relieve some of the ever-increasing tension was almost impossible to find.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 50
Kudos: 202





	those nights (when you crave someone)

_Isn’t it ironic?_ David wondered, as he lay in bed, arms crossed over his chest to keep his hands from straying into his pajama pants. Who would have ever guessed that as a man in his “early” 30s, he’d be fighting the urge to masturbate more than he had at any other time in his life. Except perhaps that period between the ages of 12-15. 

In his late teens and 20s, he’d rarely partaken in any _time for himself_ , not feeling the need when there was a steady stream of willing partners. But now, in the middle of the most significant sexual drought he'd ever suffered through, the opportunity to relieve some of the ever-increasing tension was almost impossible to find. His sister, who had had infinitely more luck than he had in finding suitable bedmates, sleeping just five feet away certainly did not help.

He rolled over to face the wall, his back to Alexis. He knew he could probably get away with it, if he was quiet. And slow. _Fuck_ , he’d have to go slow. And that almost wasn’t worth it. Having to keep it loose and lazy was just drawing out the torture, really.

Not to mention the lack of suitable lube and the logistics of cleaning up. Yes, there was lotion and tissues on their shared nightstand. No, that wasn’t good enough. There weren’t any towels to spare and there was no way in hell he would consider ruining a pair of his beloved joggers with bodily fluid. He’d already gotten far too close to an … _incident_ last week, waking up with a gasp in the middle of a dream that had him teetering on the edge. Thankfully, Alexis had continued snoring softly as he awkwardly made his way to the bathroom and managed to silently shudder through an orgasm that had only taken three strokes to achieve. 

He felt the heat flush his cheeks as he recalled the images he’d been dreaming about with surprising clarity. He rarely remembered anything from his nighttime reveries, but this time he hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts or feelings from the very vivid fantasy his subconscious had been indulging in. He’d had no idea how he was supposed to act normally while sharing a space with someone he’d been dreaming about so explicitly. 

He still wasn’t sure how well he’d actually done, trying to play it cool and not noticeably react every single time Patrick so much as glanced his way or came into his orbit of personal space. 

_Fucking Patrick_.

When had this even started? He didn’t think he could pick a specific moment, it just... _happened_ somewhere between “ _I’m gonna get the money_ ” and “ _you have a sloppy mouth_ ”. Even those two ridiculous phrases seemed to get him worked up - the bold confidence of Patrick’s belief he’d be able to make an investment appear like magic, or his deadpan proclamation on the state of David’s mouth.

David had to stop himself from audibly reacting to dwelling on mouths and his growing desire to thoroughly debauch Patrick’s. How was he supposed to _not_ imagine Patrick on his knees, those big, whiskey-colored eyes clouded with lust, lips open and tongue out, just waiting for David’s cock? 

“Ohmygod, David. Unless you’re dying stop making that noise.” 

He’d frozen at the sound of Alexis’ voice. Apparently his ability to be stealthy had totally abandoned him, and he hadn’t even tried to get his hand on his dick yet. He waited a few tense moments until he heard her breathing turn into the snuffly rhythm of sleep, and sighed. This was stupid. He was allowed to entertain a few … _scenarios_ from time to time.

How could he avoid it? He had to spend hours _every fucking day_ within touching distance of those shoulders, those forearms, and that perfect, awe-inspiring ass. How was he supposed to _not notice_ Patrick’s hands, and his fingers, and the fact that they were _exactly_ the right size for slipping inside him and opening him up with gentle stretches and deft thrusts.

He squeezed his eyes shut, only to find the mental images he had conjured up started to play out across the back of his eyelids. He knew he shouldn’t dwell on it, but _fuck_ , how could he think of anything else when he can envision himself unbuttoning one of Patrick’s blue cotton-blends and then moving to Patrick’s fly to quickly unzip it, his mouth watering at what waits for him.

He wasn’t surprised to realize that at some point his body had betrayed him; one hand had wandered up underneath his shirt, while the other slipped below the waistband of his pants. The throbbing in his cock had become too insistent to ignore, much like the desire to find out what Patrick was hiding beneath that business casual exterior had transformed into a perpetual ache that lingered and simmered constantly just on the edge of his consciousness. 

He flopped over onto his back again, contemplating his limited options. He could rub one out lying in his sad little twin bed under the stained ceiling, imagining Patrick hovering over him with his sister far too close for comfort, or he could get up and try to casually make his way into the bathroom and jerk off in the horrible fluorescent lighting again while thinking about the way catching Patrick looking at him makes him feel both physically and figuratively hot, _or_ he could stumble his way into the abomination better known as the Love Room and keep his eyes closed so he doesn’t catch sight of himself, writhing under the mirror and wishing he knew what Patrick looked like when he came. 

All of the options were incorrect in a myriad of ways, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he’d taken care of the… _situation_. Especially having wondered about Patrick’s O-face. And what about the way he’d sound? _Fuck_ , he could almost hear the moans echoing in his head already. 

He quickly brought the nearest hand to his mouth to stifle the whimper that was escaping as another possibility occurred to him… Patrick was a tease. He was constantly trolling David for his own amusement, how would _that_ translate into the bedroom? Would he be as sassy during sex as he was just going about his day? What if he was even moreso?

David sat up hastily. He had to get out of that bed, out of the room. He couldn’t continue speculating on all things Patrick and not be able to do anything about it. As silently and rapidly as possible, he stood up, and valiantly attempted to ignore the way his joggers were stretched taut by his in-desperate-need-of-attention cock. He blindly reached into his black go-bag and found the travel-sized lube he knew better than to go without and located the key to the nightmare room at the other end of the motel.

He carefully opened the door just enough to slip out, then shut it behind him, and trudged in his shuffle-of-shame down to the garish red sanctuary. He’d thought the short journey would have alleviated some of the urgency he felt, but the night air had done nothing to cool the heat burning inside him. 

He locked the door and practically threw himself on the bed, kicking off his joggers and fumbling to open the small bottle of lube. He slicked up his hand and caught a glance of himself in the mirror, instantly curious what Patrick would think of the view. He growled with relief as he finally wrapped his hand around his length, pulsing his fist. He should probably be ashamed at how swiftly this was going to be over if he let it. But, he’d rather come sooner than later when he’s alone instead of with somebody. Whenever that might be. 

Every now and then, he thought he saw something like a spark of interest or something when Patrick looked at him. He doesn’t know why or how someone like Patrick could be into him, but the thought that he might, that _just maybe_ is enough to make him come, spilling over his hand, the air knocked out of his lungs.

* * * * *

His hand moved in a steady, deliberate rhythm, an easy glide over his carefully lubed cock. Enough to be smooth, not enough to be slippery. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, eyes shut tight to lose himself in the memory.

 _Patrick’s lips on his in a lustful kiss. Patrick pinning him to the mattress, hot and hard against him. Patrick’s hands all over his body, tracing him like a treasure map. Patrick pushing into him, deliciously slow and so fucking deep_.

He groaned loudly, thankful to not have to worry about Alexis sleeping in the next bed and his parents out somewhere for the night. 

When the doors were locked, he had immediately stripped down, tossed back the covers on his bed, and reached for the new bottle of organic warming lube he’d been waiting to try. He needed the time for himself, he’d been on edge since he’d left the store earlier, taunted to the brink by Patrick’s rolled up sleeves, smart mouth, and hunger in his eyes as they’d pulled away from a kiss, panting for air.

His body tightened, muscles quivering, ready for release, but he stopped suddenly, not going for the frantic strokes to get himself there. As much as he has appreciated the time alone, he realized he could make much better use of it. 

It was an adjustment still, getting used to actually having access to what he had wanted so badly. After that first kiss, when he’d been forced to suffer through cake and family time before locking the bathroom door and using his fucking _conditioner_ to jerk off in the shower, the need for intimate contact with Patrick had ratcheted up to a degree that he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before. At least until their night at Stevie’s, when getting a literal taste of Patrick had created an incessant and ongoing craving for more.

He reached for the night stand, grabbed his phone and dialed, clenching the fingers of his other hand into a fist of frustration.

“Hello?”

“Hi. How soon can you get here?” David asked, his voice strained.

“What? Are you okay?” 

He could hear Patrick stumble over something, probably in his hurry to get out the door. “Yes?”

“You don’t sound very sure about that. What’s going on?”

He listened to the car door shut and the ignition turn over. “I have the room to myself.”

“Yeah?”

He smiled at the higher pitch of Patrick’s question. “I may have gotten started without you.”

“I’m on my way.” 

He laughed, realizing Patrick had hung up on him. He set the phone back down and rolled off the bed, carefully pulling on his joggers just as he heard the crunch of gravel from a car in the parking lot. He peeked out the window to see Patrick walking very briskly toward his room. He unlocked the door, smirking as he saw the heat he felt reflected in Patrick’s eyes as he came into the room. 

He promptly grabbed David, kissing him fiercely as he wrapped one arm around his waist and let the other slide down to grip his hard cock through the fabric. 

“ _Fuck. Yes,”_ David moaned, his head falling back as he arched into Patrick’s touch. He let himself be pushed onto the bed, then watched as Patrick began tugging his pants off, then settled between his legs, looking him over. He loved when Patrick studied him like this, like he was making a plan, a step-by-step guide to getting David to go to pieces under the influence of his very capable hands and eager tongue.

David’s hands automatically found their way to Patrick’s short hair, as Patrick leaned down to take David in his mouth. He’d gotten impressively good at giving head much faster than David could have ever expected. He’d paid attention and learned exactly what it took to make David shake apart, his name falling from David’s lips in a whimper.

As Patrick swallowed around him, David was sure this was going to be one of those nights he thought about when he found himself _alone_. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> (title from Bastille) 
> 
> thanks to edie4711 for the zippy beta!!


End file.
